


Little Things

by wantonwasting



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wantonwasting/pseuds/wantonwasting
Summary: Request: Noiz finds out that Koujaku can play guitar.Cheesy romance ensues?





	Little Things

Noiz had noticed the instruments leaning in the corner of the lounge room ages ago, but had never particularly cared. It wasn’t that he disliked music, it was simply that acoustic or traditional music was just something he was not interested in. But the instruments had moved from when he last noticed them, and that was what prompted him to take a closer look. 

The shamisen and the koto seemed to fit in with the traditional influence of Koujaku’s apartment, and Noiz would not have been surprised if Koujaku had more than a passing skill with those instruments. He liked old things like that, for whatever reason. But the guitar was another story. Aside from lacking the thin coating of dust that lay over the traditional instruments, it showed marks of wearing on the bridge and scratches on the body. Noiz brushed his fingers against the strings, and the clash of notes that rang out in response demonstrated that, at least Noiz’s limited musical knowledge, the guitar was certainly in tune. So it seemed reasonable to assume that Koujaku probably played it a lot.

What was odd, then, was that Noiz had never heard him. They weren’t exactly living together, but he had spent enough time at the hairdresser’s place to know that he was interested in more than old-fashioned crap, women and Rib. Since Koujaku had never mentioned it, Noiz had just assumed that he had, at some point, had a passing interest in music that had now been abandoned.

Picking up one of his bunny cubes, Noiz pulled up the information on Koujaku he had on file. Most of it had been gathered before they started dating, but he updated it now and then out of habit - it now included Koujaku’s dislike of celery, and that fact that he did not like swimming in the ocean. It did not mention any particular interest in music or musical ability. Noiz closed the file. It didn’t matter; he could just ask him.

“Rhyme battle: twenty minutes! Twenty minutes!” Usagimodoki chimed.

”Where?” Noiz asked.

“Aoyagi Street! Behind the alley beside the tattoo bar! Beside the tattoo bar!”

“Got it.” Noiz said. He grabbed the cube from the table and his hat from where Koujaku had tossed it the night before, and headed out the door.

The Rhyme battle proved boring; the opponents were weak and the fight finished much too fast. As Noiz walked back down Aoyagi Street, he considered going back to Koujaku’s. Ruff Rabbit mostly associated online or at Rhyme matches, and since he had already caught up with them today, there was no need to seek anyone out.

At this hour, though, it would be likely that Koujaku would not be back yet. After work he would no doubt go to hang out with his Rib team, as usual. Noiz could not stand the Beni-Shigure guys. Like all Ribsteez, they were competitive, often drunk, and ridiculously loud. While they had started to tolerate Noiz for Koujaku’s sake, most of them remained vocal in their distaste for Rhyme and Rhymers in general. Noiz avoided them where possible, especially since Koujaku had made it clear that he would no longer tolerate fights between him and them. Noiz understood - it probably would be embarrassing for Koujaku to see his Rib team getting the shit beaten out of them by one guy.

He took the turn that would eventually lead him to Koujaku’s apartment without really thinking about it. He could just take a shower and wait for Koujaku to come back with food.

When he reached the apartment, he noticed that the door was unlocked. Koujaku’s sandals were in the genkan, and when he glanced into the lounge room, he could see a familiar head of dark hair on the couch. Huh.

Noiz kicked off his shoes and walked inside.

“Welcome home.” Koujaku said, glancing up. “How was Rhyme today?”

“Boring.” Noiz said. He glanced over the couch. Koujaku was sitting in front of a wig, an array of combs and tools spread out on the table behind it. “I didn’t know you worked with wigs.”

“I don’t usually.” Koujaku said with a sigh. “It’s just this customer. I keep telling her to just buy new ones, but she likes the ones she has, so I do what I can to restore them when they need it. Well, I guess I understand.”

“What do you mean?” Noiz asked, leaning over the couch.

“Her partner bought them for her before she died.” Koujaku said. He ran his fingers through the damp ends of the wig sitting in front of him, and then picked up a comb. “They’re special; she says they remind her of the time they had together.”

“She sounds overly sentimental.”

“Maybe.” Koujaku said, glancing up again before returning his attention to the wig. “But like I said, I understand. She wants to hang on to those memories.”

“She should move on.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

Noiz shrugged. “Hanging on the past won’t help anyone. What’s done is done.”

“It’s not always that easy to let go.” Koujaku said softly.

There was nothing Noiz could say to that, and so he just stayed silent. Koujaku was the bleeding-heart type; he cared too much about shit that didn’t matter, and he probably always would. It was pointless to argue about it though; he was probably too old to change and antagonising him in that way was not likely to yield profitable results.

Instead he watched Koujaku’s scarred fingers as they worked through the fibres of the wig as deftly as they worked through real hair, loosening the worst of the knots before he pulled the comb through. His hands were undoubtedly one of his best features. They were large and strong and scarred, and watching hands that had obviously seen such violence put to use in gentle and tender ways was a different kind of pleasure to what Noiz was typically used to. And knowing that they had the potential for brutality, knowing that a savage rage simmered in those finely shaped bones only served to heighten that pleasure.

But watching those fingers skilfully work through the hair reminded Noiz of something else.

“Do you play guitar?”

“What’s with that all of a sudden?” Koujaku asked, freezing.

“There’s a guitar right over there.” Noiz said. “So you do play, right?”

“From time to time, I guess.” Koujaku said. He resumed his work, untangling a particularly stubborn knot with his fingers before running the comb through it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you played guitar?”

Koujaku shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. The gesture did not hide that his ears had gone red, but Noiz could not fathom why. ”I didn’t think you’d be particularly interested.”

“You should play something for me.” 

“Eh?” Koujaku asked, looking up with wide eyes. “Why?”

“I want to hear you.” 

“D-Don’t be ridiculous.” Koujaku scoffed, his blush not fading in the least. He returned his attention to the wig in front of him. “I’m not gonna play for you, brat.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.” Koujaku said. He pushed abruptly to his feet. “You want a drink or something?”

“No.” Noiz said.

“Suit yourself then.” Koujaku said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Noiz watched the doorway for a moment and then straightened. Shower, that’s what he had intended to do when he got back. He headed towards the bathroom, a strange feeling coiling in his chest - curiosity?

Noiz smirked; it’d been a while since he had felt that.

“Come on, just one song.” Noiz said.

They were walking down the backstreets near Aoyagi Street, each heading to their respective team hang outs. Noiz kept pace with Koujaku, his hands buried in his pockets, and was glad that he was not one of those people who walked slowly in empty streets.

“Geez, when you get stuck on something you really get hung up on it.” Koujaku said. 

A light rain began to fall. Koujaku glanced up at the sky with a dissatisfied face, and then opened his umbrella. It was large enough to shield both of them from the rain, though Noiz never really cared about the rain one way or another unless he was working with some old piece of tech. The umbrella cast it’s red shadow over them as it stopped the rain, the dim lightning softening Koujaku’s scars. Noiz glanced down as he considered the fact that even if he touched Koujaku’s face now, he would not be able to tell the difference between his skin and the scars.

“Just one.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure you could think of something you’d like me to do for you.” Noiz said, looking up at him from beneath his lashes.

“What, like a trade?” Koujaku asked. “You want me to play that badly?”

“Something like that.” Noiz said, smirking. He pushed Koujaku back into the wall, one of his hands splayed out against the wet brick. 

Koujaku’s eyes glinted. “Alright.” He said, his own smile growing. He scooped up the ends of Noiz’s hat with one large hand and tugged on them. “What about you don’t wear the hat for an entire week?”

“Tch.” Noiz said, shoving off the wall. He jammed his hands back into his pockets. Always the goddamned hat. “Fuck you, old man." 

“Maybe when we get home.” Koujaku said, smirking. “It’s a bit cold out here for that.”

Noiz rolled his eyes. “Lame.” 

A few days later, Koujaku was tidying up his borrowed workspace. He had swept already, and was setting the cordless hair dryer back in its place on the rack the way the owner liked it when his Coil rang.

Pressing the button to answer, Koujaku put on his usual smile.

“Hey, Koujaku! How have you been?” A familiar voice came.

“Aoba! It’s been a while.” Koujaku said, his smile changing into one more genuine. 

“That’s what I was calling about, actually.” Aoba said. “I think Granny’s started to miss you.”

“Ah, sorry about that.” Koujaku said. He made a face. “With Dry Juice coming back, some of the other Rib teams have been a bit pushy about territory.” 

“It’s fine.” Aoba said brightly. “We were just wondering if you’d want to come around for dinner sometime this week? Ah, Noiz is welcome too, of course.”

“Huh? What’s with this?”

“He came around to Heibon the other day, so I thought it might be nice.” Aoba said. He frowned, the image of his face rippling a little as the Coil screen was wont to do. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No, it sounds nice.” Koujaku hurriedly said. 

“Right?” Aoba said, smiling again. 

“It really has been a while.” Koujaku said, rubbing his cheek. “I’ll ask him.”

“So, what’s this I hear about you and guitar?” Aoba asked. “You didn’t tell me you could still play!”

“Are you kidding me?” Koujaku asked. “What did that brat say?”

“He just asked if you were any good.” Aoba said. “Well? Are you?”

“Not really.” Koujaku said. “It was mostly just a way to pass time.” 

“I remember when you used to play when we were kids.” Aoba said, nostalgia in his voice. “You’d always play the same thing over and over and we’d make up different words.”

“That was a long time ago.” Koujaku said. He still remembered it clearly though; they’d had a lot of fun passing the time like that. Whenever Tae-san had been late home, it had been one of the ways he’d distract Aoba and they would always end up in fits of giggles at their terrible rhymes and clichéd lines.

“Yeah.” Aoba agreed. “Maybe you should bring the guitar with you when you come for dinner.”

“Hah, I don’t think so.” Koujaku said. “I might be a little better than I was back then, but I’m not great by any stretch.”

“Aww, come on.” Aoba said.

“Aoba.” Koujaku said firmly.

“Fine, fine.” Aoba said. “But make sure you let me know what night is good for you and Noiz, okay?”

“I will.” Koujaku said.

Aoba hung up and Koujaku stood for a moment, lost in thought. He had never really taken Noiz out on dates; he had suggested it once or twice, but the brat had shut him down each time. And yet Aoba considered the two of them to be ‘together’ enough that an invitation to dinner was extended to the two of them.

Shit.

He’d have to have a deeper think about what that meant later. Thankfully he’d have time; that customer, pleased as always with his work on her wig, had brought him another. If there was one thing he had learned about wig restoration, it was that there was precious little to do while working through finely spun plastic tangles aside from thinking.

Koujaku finished tidying and locked up the shop. He stopped by the supermarket on his way home to pick up some soba and mentsuyu. He took a shower to wash off the smell of hairspray and bleach powder when he got home and changed into someone warmer; the autumn nights were getting cooler now, and it frequently rained throughout the night. Knowing the wig would take quite a while, he immediately set to work.

He had taken a short break for dinner and returned to his work when he heard footsteps in the hallway outside his apartment. The door clicked and Noiz stepped inside. Koujaku twisted to look back over the couch.

“Hey, brat! What’s up with you asking Aoba about this guitar obsession?!” Koujaku asked. “Why on earth would you do that?”

Noiz shrugged as he pulled off his shoes. “I wanted to know if you were any good.” He said. “Figured Aoba would know.”

“And?”

“He said he didn’t know you still played.” Noiz said. He walked over and threw himself down on the couch.

“Of course not! It’s not something I go around telling people I do.”

“Not even Aoba?”

“Hell no.”

“Then who do you play for?”

“I don’t- it’s not like that!” Koujaku said, face heating. He turned his attention back to the wig, wrapping a neat tress of hair around his curling iron and pining it there.

“Come on, I’m sure you could think of something you want me to do in return.” Noiz said, taking advantage of the fact that the hairdresser was forced to wait for the curl to set by climbing into his lap. “You’d get something out of it, so what’s the problem?”

“I don’t need to get something out of it.” Koujaku said. He picked Noiz up under the arms and set him down on the cushion beside him. ”And don’t do that while I’m working. You could get hurt.” Koujaku added, waving the hot iron in his hand. He unrolled one curl and tested it in his hand. Satisfied with its bounce, he gently combed it out.

“Are you still working on that wig?” Noiz asked.

“It’s a different one, so stop sulking.” Koujaku said.

“Same customer?”

“Yeah.” 

Noiz rolled his eyes. “She’s an idiot. You should tell her it’s time to move on.”

“Why? Don’t you think it’s even a little romantic?”

“It’s completely ridiculous.” Noiz said, shifting. “Who holds on to that kind of shit?”

”Not everyone is like you.” Koujaku said, glancing at him. “And besides, she’s my client; it’s not my place to say that kind of thing, even if I did agree with you.”

“Which is why you work overtime ’til eight.” Noiz said.

“I don’t tell you how to run your business.” Koujaku said, brows furrowing. He unrolled another curl. His expression brightened as he combed it, and he added. “Ah, speaking of Aoba, he invited us around to dinner.” 

“Is that so?” Noiz asked.

“Yeah.” Koujaku said. “When are you free?”

“Wait, me too?”

“I said ‘us’, didn’t I?” Koujaku asked.

“…Okay.” Noiz said. “I’m free Wednesday.”

“Seriously?” Koujaku asked, raising his brows. 

“What, you don’t want to?” 

“I just didn’t expect you to be so keen.”

“I like the donuts.” Noiz said, refusing to meet his eye and instead reaching to pick up one of his rabbit cubes.

Cute, Koujaku thought. “Yeah I like them too.”

“You should learn to make them.”

“Haven’t you becoming a demanding brat?” Koujaku asked, turning his attention back to his wig as he felt the burning warmth of the curling iron on his hand. Shifting it back into his grip properly, he started on the next row of curls.

“It’s how you can pay me back for being so polite to those girls who hang off you in public.”

“Oh, you think that you’re polite to them?” Koujaku said. “You made one of my regulars cry just by saying three words.”

“It’s not my fault her AllMate protocols were so unrestricted.” Noiz said. 

“I had to cut her hair for free to make it up to her.” Koujaku said.

“You didn’t have to.” Noiz pointed out. He glanced at the wig again. “Are you almost done? I’m hungry.”

“I already ate.” Koujaku said. “I thought you’d have something out.”

“I did.” Noiz said. “I’m hungry again.”

Koujaku sighed and set his curling iron down. He knew from experience that he would not be able to get any more work done until Noiz was satisfied. “Come on, then. I’ll see what we have.”

“And after we eat, you’ll play guitar for me, right?”

“Wrong!”

Noiz pulled of his drenched clothes in the dimness of the streetlight filtering through the paper window. He exhaled a soft sigh as he kicked off his pants, inhaling the scent of wood and lacquer that characterised Koujaku’s entire apartment. The sounds of rustling drowned out the soft sounds of Koujaku breathing, but Noiz was not worried that Koujaku would wake. He slept heavily through the night for someone who tended to get up at some ungodly time well before noon.

Noiz slipped under the covers in just his underwear. He slid himself across the bed, resting on his elbow to look at Koujaku’s sleeping face. He just make out his profile; the shape of his nose and the curve of his lips. In the darkness, the tattoo on his cheekbone was blurred to a black smudge. Noiz brushed Koujaku’s hair clear from his ear and leaned down, close enough that his lips brushed over his skin.

“Play guitar for me.” Noiz whispered. “Just one song. Play guitar for me.”

Koujaku shifted, and Noiz sat back quickly enough to avoid a sleepy fist to the face.

“Stop that.” Koujaku grumbled. “You’re smart enough to know that sleep hypnosis doesn’t actually work.”

“The results are inconclusive on less developed brains.” Noiz smirked.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” Koujaku scowled, and there was a rustle of movement as Koujaku pushed himself up and tackled Noiz to the bed.

“What, is that all you’ve got?” Noiz asked.

“You’re so cold.” Koujaku complained, moving his hand from Noiz’s shoulder. “And is your hair wet? I’ve told you before: if you don’t dry it properly, you’ll catch a cold.”

“It’s fine, it’s just a little rain anyway.” Noiz said.

Koujaku clicked his tongue and then collapsed on top of him. 

“Oi, old man, get off! I can’t breathe properly!” Noiz gasped.

“That’s what you get.” Koujaku said, his voice muffled.

“You’re so heavy!” Noiz said, wriggling and pushing at Koujaku’s shoulder. He was, unfortunately, no match for Koujaku’s dead weight and quickly stopped.

“Giving up already?” Koujaku asked.

“Like hell.” Noiz said, voice a little breathless. “I’m trying a different tactic.” He rubbed his hands over Koujaku’s back, pressing into the fabric of his yukata with blunt fingers as he traced over his shoulder blades. He pressed his lips to Koujaku’s neck in slow, sucking kisses, dragging his teeth over the familiar sensitive places until he heard a low groan by his ear.

“So, are you going to get up now?” Noiz asked, dropping his voice to low murmur.

Koujaku lifted himself up on his elbows and Noiz sucked in a deep breath of relief. “I already am.”

“Then I win, right?” Noiz asked. He hooked one leg around Koujaku’s waist. “Right?”

“We’ll see about that.” Koujaku said, sleep and growing desire making his voice husky.

“I can’t wait-” Noiz began, but was interrupted by Koujaku pressing his mouth of Noiz’s and kissing him deeply. Noiz threaded a hand into Koujaku’s hair, tugging it sharply when Koujaku tried to pull away. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Like hell it is.”

[[New Billboard Post for   
Seeking on Koujaku (Beni-Shigure): Does he play guitar? What is his skill level?  
Reward for information < yes>. Contact OP for reward information.

end.]]  
As soon as he finished typing, scowled. While he could not deny that his curiosity was getting far out of hand – and certainly, more than he was used to – he suddenly found that he did not want to know from some stranger. The likelihood that those who replied would be one of Koujaku’s former lovers was high, and Noiz did not want to hear it from them.

He wanted Koujaku to tell him himself.

Noiz exited the post without publishing it.

Wednesday came, and Koujaku stood on Aoba’s doorstep alone. He knocked and waited, catching the sounds of footfalls before the door slid open. The bright light from the hallway fell over in a haze over blue hair, and Koujaku straightened his shoulders unconsciously.

“Koujaku! Come in.” Aoba said, smiling. His smile dropped and he glanced around. “Eh, where’s Noiz?”

“He said something about a Rhyme match and left.” Koujaku said, shaking his head. Truth be told, Noiz had been acting odd all day, switching from game to game and constantly checking for any updates on Rhyme predictions from his team. Koujaku wasn’t surprised he had bailed. “The brat’s got no manners whatsoever.”

“It’s fine.” Aoba said, stepping aside to let Koujaku in. “But you tell him that I’m mad at him, okay? And tell him that he has to come next time.”

“I will.” Koujaku promised. He pulled off his shoes in the genkan and stepped up into the hallway. He followed Aoba into the kitchen. Ren was standing at the bench with Tae, cutting up vegetables under her critical eye. As usual, he quashed the itch he felt at seeing Ren’s hair; he just wanted to cut it into a style that would suit his face better, but he knew he’d have to wait until Ren asked.

“Hello Tae-san, Ren.” Koujaku said as he walked in. 

“You’re early!” Tae-san said, rounding on him. Aoba abandoned him to go and get glasses for the table.

“Only because I was so looking forward to seeing you!” Koujaku said.

“Bah, you’re only looking forward to eating my food.” Tae said, but the corners of her mouth lifted anyway. 

His offer to help rejected, Koujaku took his usual place at the table. Soon, dinner was served and the four of them settled down to eat. It was so similar to the days when it had been just Aoba, Koujaku and Tae that Koujaku was almost lost in a wave of nostalgia. The lack of bitterness in his chest these days could only mean he had changed for the better; even he could admit that Ren was utterly devoted to Aoba, and if Aoba was happy then Koujaku was too.

It almost passed too quickly, and then Aoba and Ren were taking all the dishes to the sink. Tae shooed him from the kitchen, so he headed upstairs to Aoba’s balcony. He leant against the railing and lit a cigarette. The bright lights of Midorijima almost seemed to dance in the rain as he inhaled the smoke, watching as they faded and reappeared through the smoke of his exhale.

He heard the door slide open and Aoba appeared at his side.

“Some things never change.” Aoba said, glancing at the cigarette between his fingers.

Koujaku smiled and glanced behind him into Aoba’s room. “Where’s Ren?”

“He’s helping Granny with the laundry.” Aoba said. “He’s taller so he can reach the dryer a little better.”

“Makes sense.” Koujaku agreed. 

They stood in comfortable silence for a little while. 

“So…” Aoba began, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Have you played anything for him yet?” 

“No!” Koujaku said, flicking his cigarette. “And he just keeps asking. It’s the worst.”

“Then why don’t you just play something?”

“Because it’s embarrassing.” Koujaku insisted. He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray he’d set on the floor and scowled.

“Why?”

“I only really know romantic songs.” Koujaku said, rubbing his neck as he straightened. “You know, because women like that kind of thing…”

“So?” Aoba asked, grinning. “Aren’t you and Noiz dating? You can play something romantic for him.”

“He’d laugh.” Koujaku said flatly.

“I guess he probably would.” Aoba agreed. “But what’s the harm?”

“He hates sentimental crap like that.” Koujaku said.

“Maybe he wouldn’t from you.”

“Since when did you get all-knowing about relationships, anyway?” Koujaku asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Ah, well, Ren’s been helping me.” Aoba said. “He’s picked up all kinds of stuff from Yoshie-san, it’s kind of amazing.”

“Is that right?” Koujaku asked. “Maybe I should ask him for advice instead then.”

“He’d probably like that.” Aoba said. “But I don’t know if he could really help you in this situation. I think you should just play for him.”

“Haah, I guess.” Koujaku said. “I didn’t know he could be so stubborn.”

“Are you kidding? I could have told you that.” Aoba said, crossing his arms and pouting a little. “He’s still asking me to play Rhyme with him, and I don’t even have an AllMate anymore.”

“Annoying brat.” Koujaku said muttered.

Aoba patted him on the shoulder lightly. “Sorry, Koujaku, but I don’t really know what to say.”

“It’s fine.” Koujaku said. “I got myself into this anyway.”

[Noiz, (12:46pm): Play the guitar for me.]

∟[reply (12:46pm): No! Stop asking!]

∟[Noiz (12:46pm): Why not?]

∟[reply (12:47pm): Does it matter? I said no!]

∟[Noiz (12:47pm): Are you a fraud then? You can’t play?]

∟[reply (12:48pm): It’s not like that!]

∟[Noiz (12:49pm): Then what is it like?]

∟[Noiz (5:13pm): Come on, old man. One song won’t kill you.]

∟[Noiz (8:26pm): Play the guitar for me.]  
∟[Noiz (12:03am): Please?]

Noiz unlocked the door, and stepped inside. 

“Noiz, come here for a bit.”

Noiz kicked off his shoes. “How did you know it was me?”

He could hear Koujaku laughing in the other room. “No one else just lets themselves in.”

“Is that right?” Noiz asked walking into the lounge room.

Koujaku was sitting on the couch. It was obvious he had not gone out; he wasn’t in his kimono and his hair was loose over his shoulder. But more importantly, he had his guitar slung over his lap with his arm was draped over the curve of the body. He was holding a pick loosely in his long fingers.

”Eh, what’s this?” Noiz asked, stopping.

”What’s it look like?” Koujaku said. “Sit your ass down, I’m going to play something for you.”

Noiz quashed the excitement in chest and walked over with deliberate casualness. He sat himself down on the other end of the couch; but with Koujaku sitting how he was so the guitar would fit on his lap, the space between their knees was somehow smaller than Noiz had expected.

”So I finally get to hear if you are any good, huh?”

”Something like that.”

”Why now?”

Koujaku shrugged. “I was getting worried what else you might do if I didn’t.” He said. “So…”

He strummed the guitar experimentally at first, and Noiz could almost feel the weight of his gaze as their eyes locked. And then Koujaku looked away, fingers settling on the fretboard and he began to play in earnest.

The chords were rich and warm, and they filled the room with their clean sounds. The soft scrape of Koujaku’s calloused fingers on the steel strings proceeded each chord change. But the instant Koujaku began to sing, Noiz could barely hear anything else. Noiz had appreciated Koujaku’s voice at other times, but he was surprised at just how good it was. The words were saccharine sweet and cheesier than anything Noiz has ever heard, but that did not stop the colour from rising to his cheeks. It suited Koujaku to sing something like that and somehow make it work. And as Noiz watched his fingers move over the strings, his mind did not move to violence; he could barely think of anything at all. Part of him wanted to ask what had changed his mind, and why now, but the larger part did not want to interrupt, and it was that part that won out.

Koujaku let the last chord ring out before he dampened the strings. He glanced up, a slight smile unable to hide the anxiety in his eyes. Noiz shifted, but he was unable to hide the pink in his cheeks. He looked down.

”Did you write that?” Noiz asked, and was grateful to find his voice was perfectly steady.

“No, it’s an old song. Probably from before you were born.” Koujaku said. He pressed the pick between the strings and propped his elbow up on the body of the guitar. He rested his cheek against his knuckles and added, “That doesn’t make it not true though.”

Noiz tugged on the cords of his hat, pulling it down over his eyes. 

“Noiz.” Koujaku said, and he could hear the soft laughter in his voice. “You’ve gone bright red.”

“Shut up.” Noiz said. “It’s your fault anyway, old man. You’re so lame.”

“Yeah, I know.” Koujaku said. Noiz heard him move, but didn’t look up. He felt the weight of a hand on his head. 

“…thanks though.” Noiz said, voice dropping.

“You’re welcome, shitty brat.” 

The hand disappeared. Noiz heard the guitar being set down and immediately glanced up. 

“I didn’t say you should stop.” Noiz said. “Play more.”

Koujaku stared at him. “Really?”

“Why not?” Noiz asked.

“I… guess I could.” Koujaku said. He slowly brought the guitar back to the couch. “I actually don’t know that many songs though. And they’re all… kind of… like that.”

“Then just play all of them.”

The two of them stood outside the door. Noiz had his hands in his pockets and was still wearing his ridiculous hat, but Koujaku was pleased he was there at all. The door opened, and this time it was Ren.

”Hey Ren.” Koujaku said, smiling.

”Come in.” Ren said, holding the door open. “Aoba’s in the kitchen.”

”Is he cooking?”

”Yes.” Ren said. “Tae thought it was time for him to learn a few extra things.”

”Is that right? I’ll bet that has been an experience.” Koujaku said.

”The last few nights have certainly been interesting.” Ren agreed. “But he’s already shown signs of improvement, so he should be able to make more than satisfactory meals by himself in the near future.”

Koujaku laughed and they went inside, leaving their shoes by the door. They followed Ren into the kitchen. Aoba and Tae stood over the stove, Aoba stirring something in the pot while Tae watched closely. 

“Early again!” Tae snorted, glancing up as she heard them approach.

“Koujaku!” Aoba said, “And Noiz! I’m glad you could make it this time.”

“Yeah, me too.” Noiz said.

“Is there anything we can do?” Koujaku said.

“Just sit down and stop being in the way.” Tae said. “Aoba is doing fine on his own. Ren, set the table.”

“Yes.” Ren said, and quickly started to do as he had been asked.

“You, you haven’t been getting into too much trouble, have you?” Tae said, turning around to face them and focusing her intense gaze on Noiz.

Noiz blinked. “Me?”

“Don’t pretend you’re the clean-living type.” Tae said. “Just look at you.”

“I don’t get into anything I can’t handle.” Noiz said, scowling.

“And you look a bit scrawny – you probably don’t even eat right.”

“It’s pretty much pizza and pasta for this guy.” Koujaku said, sagely nodding.

“And you! Don’t think I don’t hear about the kind of mischief you get up to.” Tae said, rounding on Koujaku. “Don’t you think it’s time you left that kind of life behind?”

“Yeah, you are getting pretty old now.” Noiz said, scowl easing into a smirk.

“Oi, I’m not half as bad as you are.” Koujaku said, crossing his arms.

“Don’t try to weasel out if it.” Noiz said.

“Dinner’s ready.” Aoba said loudly from his play at the stove. ”I think…”

“It certainly smells ready.” Ren agreed.

“It smells great, Aoba.” Koujaku said.

Tae returned to the stove to check on her grandson’s handiwork, and soon after, dinner was served. Aoba’s curry was surprisingly good; it had obviously been made under Tae’s watchful eye – her cooking was always fantastic. Despite the banter, they were quickly finished. Tae chased them out of the kitchen then with the promise of donuts, but since Aoba’s room was a little small for all four of them, they sat in the lounge room instead.

Aoba turned the television on, and flicked through a few channels. Noiz’s Usagimodoki starting making insistent ‘P!’ sounds; Noiz sat down on one end of the couch and brought up the screens from his Coil. Ren watched with mild curiosity, but he did not ask, and Noiz did not notice.

“There’s nothing on.” Aoba said. “See, Koujaku, that’s why you should bring your guitar over. You could entertain us while we wait.”

“Aoba -” Koujaku began.

“It’s probably better that he doesn’t.” Noiz said, pressing keys on the keyboard hovering in front of him. “He’s terrible.”

“Noiz, you asshole -” Koujaku began, flushing.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Aoba said, quickly interrupting.

“Indeed, Koujaku is at least a good singer.” Ren said. “Last time we went to karaoke, he beat you quite significantly.”

“Okay, Ren, we don’t need to go quite that far.” Aoba said quickly. “But really, Koujaku, we’d like to hear you sometime.”

“No, you really don’t.” Noiz said. “Trust me, he’s the worst.”

“Noiz! You can’t just say that kind of thing!”

“It’s the truth though.”

Koujaku opened his mouth to retort, but the chime of his Coil distracted him. Hoping it was someone from Beni-Shigure desperately requesting help so he could leave, Koujaku brought up the display.

[Noiz, (8:52pm): I don’t want you to play for anyone else. Sorry.]

Cheeks heating for a different reason now, Koujaku settled back against the cushions. “Geez…”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Koujaku.” Aoba said lightly, “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“It doesn’t really matter to me.” Koujaku said. “A brat who only listens to electronic music shouldn’t really be trusted when it comes to this kind of thing anyway.”

“I think the donuts are almost ready.” Ren said, sniffing. 

Everyone stared at him.

“Alright, they’re ready.” Tae called. “Come and get them.”

In an instant, Noiz was at the door. “Hurry up.” He said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Damn, he’ll eat them all.” Aoba said, suddenly on his feet. 

“Probably.” Koujaku said with a laugh.

“It does seem likely.” Ren agreed.

“Come on, then!” Aoba said, dragging Koujaku up by the sleeve of his kimono. “Ren, you hurry too!”


End file.
